Damon's POV

I was halfway through answering an email when my phone buzzed with a message that made my stomach tighten.

Brenda:

Can you step out for a minute? I'm outside. Please.

I pushed away from my desk, grabbed my jacket, and stepped outside. The early evening light cast a soft orange glow over the driveway, and there she was - Brenda - standing beside her car, arms folded tightly over her chest, a small duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

Her eyes were red. Not from sickness - she'd ...